


Harmless

by avienexjel



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Other, Tony Stark Has Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-03
Updated: 2016-06-03
Packaged: 2018-07-12 02:17:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7080724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/avienexjel/pseuds/avienexjel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clint pulls a minor prank on Tony to get back for the engineer spray-painting his arrows pink.<br/>- - -<br/>Too bad that particular prank includes water, and Tony doesn't really react well to that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Harmless

**1  ||  CLINT IS CLUELESS**

:((((

 

Yawning, Tony entered the kitchen, absentmindedly pouring himself a cup of coffee.  There was a smudge of grease on his forehead and his eyes were red from fatigue.  He looked terrible.  His tank top had turned from white to grey, with darker splotches scattered across his chest.  Underneath the fabric, the faint bluish glow of the arc reactor could be seen.   

 

"Tony, when's the last time you went to sleep?" Bruce said from his spot by the sink.  He aimed a pointed look at the engineer, as did the rest of the Avengers in the kitchen, except for Clint and Thor.  Thor was in Asgard, and as for the archer, he was probably crawling through the vents again.  The guy was pretty weird.

 

"Not too long ago," the man said quickly, looking guiltily at Bruce.  Finally, the staring battle was too much and Tony relented.  "Okay, maybe three days ago.  But I've gone longer before."  He forced a fake smile onto his face.  "My record is six and a half days before I passed out for five hours."  

 

Natasha sighed and Steve covered his face and groaned.  Bruce just rolled his eyes and just shook his head.  "I'm surprised you're still alive."  Tony just stuck his tongue out at the scientist, although inside, he felt a spark of warmth in his chest.  It was drawn from years of neglect by Howard and Maria's mental absence, a quenching of the yearning for someone to care for him.  He swallowed, and forced down the odd sentimentality that had sprung in him.  No, he wasn't normally so...mushy.  Or all feelings-y.

 

"Believe me, so am I," the engineer replied with a smirk, before setting his now-empty coffee cup onto the counter.

 

Suddenly, Tony heard a voice from above him go: "Watch out, Stark!" and bursts of laughter ensued.  The billionaire looked up to see Clint grinning mischievously above his head.  The archer had something round and red in his hands.

 

"What--" Tony started, before an avalanche of water came down upon him.  It ran in rivulets down his face, streaming down his neck and soaking his clothes.  Tony opened his mouth, tried to take a breath, but couldn't get any air.  His mind flung itself back to Afghanistan, when the dicks had waterboarded him, forcing his head under again and again and again--

 

_"Make the weapon for us," a voice growled in broken English.  "Or we will kill you, Mister Stark."_

_"No," Tony gasped right before his head was dunked underneath again.  He strained to come back up for air, but the hands fisted into his hair pushed firmly down.  Finally, spluttering water and coughing, Tony was allowed to yank himself out of the tank._

_"Do not think you are important so that we would not kill you.  You are only one man," his captor said calmly, before forcing his head back underwater again.  Tony twisted, his fingers scrabbling uselessly for a weapon.  His wrists were tied so tightly behind his back that he knew the ropes binding them would leave scars._

_"But you need me," he said defiantly.  "I'm the modern Einstein.  Without me, you can't achieve anything."  Growling, the man slammed Tony's face into the edge of the tank.  Blood trickled from his nose, and his cheekbone was aching._

_"Do not speak like that again," the man said in his clumsy, accented English.  "I will not hesitate to harm you further."  Wisely, the billionaire kept his mouth shut, and then his eyes and nose and ears were shoved back into the blurry darkness of the tank._

Clint had only meant it to be a joke; a harmless one that would drench the Avenger and teach him not to mess with Clint ever again.  Stark had spray-painted all of his practice arrows hot pink, and earlier in the gym as he was shooting them at the targets Tony had set up for him, they shattered uselessly against the red dot in the center.  It had annoyed the archer to no end, considering he hadn't practiced in a while, and had really wanted to get back into his rhythm.  But then stupid Stark had to go and mess it all up...

 

But he hadn't expected the engineer's reaction.  He'd slipped out of the vent, landing smoothly in a crouch next to the frozen man, and waited for an outburst or perhaps an angry yell.  It was none of these things.  Instead, Tony had stumbled back, falling against the counter, and was now curled in a ball on the floor.  Natasha was by the man's side in a second, shooting Clint a death glare before leaning close to Tony and whispering in the softest voice anybody had ever heard from her before, _"Shh.  It's okay.  You're not there anymore,_  moy rebenok."   _(My child.)_   Steve hovered behind her crouched body, looking concerned.

 

Tony continued to shake, tremors running through his body and his shoulders trembling violently.  He huddled against the cupboards, face buried in his arms.  His knees were tucked to his chest, and it was such a vulnerable, scared position that it made Clint want to throw up for a second.  He'd seen some pretty fucked-up kids back at the group home before he'd run away with Barney, and it seemed that position was universal.  It was the sign of torture, abuse, of terror that was so strong that it obliterated anything else.

 

"Uh...," Clint mumbled when he had regained his speech.  "Stark...are you okay?"

 

"What do you think?" Natasha snapped, her hostility rushing back.  "You idiot, he's having a panic attack."

 

"Sorry," Clint said.  "Um...I didn't know he was scared of water..."

 

"He has PTSD," the quiet voice of none other than Bruce Banner said.  "Afghanistan.  He doesn't like to talk about it."

 

Tony seemed to be calming down now, his breathing not as ragged and fast-paced as before.  He closed his eyes, tilting his head back against the side of the counter.

 

"You're good now," Natasha continued in her soft, soothing voice, running her fingers through the engineer's damp hair.  The man just turned his face towards her, his eyes still closed, and focused on breathing evenly.

 

Finally, after what seemed like ages, Tony opened his eyes to see all of the Avengers peering at him worriedly.  He swallowed before he laid eyes on Clint.  The archer looked incredibly guilty, but Tony didn't care.  Instead, he forced back a biting insult and stood, fleeing the room.


End file.
